One Year to Live
by mpregauthor
Summary: Harry Potter must come face to face with his eternal enemy. But just because he defeated him, doesn't mean he's gotten rid of the things he's done. Life has become so precious...in just two ways. MPREG. Non-slash.
1. One Year To Live

**One Year to Live **

**Author's Notes**: Expect this first chapter to be a little odd. But then, expect it to be one of those types of stories that make you go, "OMG…*squee*." And also expect it to be MPREG. Yes, I am the mpregauthor. Deal with it! :D Anyways, yes, expect this to be a little bit on the weirder side, at least for the first chapter.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter, nor will I ever in the future. Rights go to J K Rowling, and her amazing story.

Light.

Fight.

Light.

Fight.

Again. Again. Attack, again. Deflect, again.

Light.

Fight.

Light.

Fight.

Again, Again. Attack, again. Deflect, again.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Gravidanex!"

Dark.

**Author's Notes: **Trust me, the next chapter will be longer.


	2. Chapter 2

**One Year to Live **

**Author's Notes**: Okay, well I'm back. Be prepared for some "OMG SNAPE," action. XD And as you will also notice, I kept all the original characters from dying except Voldie. Huzzah for Dumbelldore, Serious, Taunks, and Reemuz!! Jk, jk. :D

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Harry Potter, I would be so psyched I'd kiss Alan Rickman. Okay, okay, I'd kiss Alan Rickman even if I didn't own Harry Potter.

* * *

Thump.

Thump.

"Potter."

Thump.

Thump.

"Potter?"

Thump.

Thump.

"Potter!"

Harry's eyes flew open, though his head spun as he did so. Of course, the first person he managed to look into the eyes of was not whom he expected. It was, in fact, someone he wasn't particularly thrilled about seeing either.

It was Snape. He had his Death Eater mask off and he had his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Professor?" Harry mumbled.

"Don't move, Harry, I'm right here." His voice was quiet, soft, and surprisingly comforting.

Harry. Harry? Since when had Snape ever been on a first name basis with him? It was strange to hear that coming from a man he had hated.

"You bastard! How dare you betray the Death Eaters! Your betrayal shall never allow you entrance into the Death Eater clan again, mark my words! That and…do you know what you have just done? I don't believe you!" said an arrogant, haughty, and almost livid voice. Harry could've sworn it was Lucius Malfoy.

"Oh yeah, and what would you have done if your Master who had practically raped your only son? Throw a party right? Shut up you arrogant prick."

Harry's eyes glazed over. He felt like he was going to be sick or something. His whole body felt like it was on fire and he wondered briefly if he had been cursed. He had remembered some words that had been spoken, but he hadn't a clue what they meant. The words were…Gravidanex…or something?

"No…do you realize what you have done? Do you? You've just _touched_ him. Do you realized what you have done? Do you not realize what you have done? Do you know of the spell-"

"The spell was a fluke! You saw Voldemort's lifeforce go out before it even touched Harry. His soul dies, the spell dies, end of story. He's fine. How do you feel, Harry?"

Harry's mouth was incredibly dry and his head was still spinning. His limbs were practically lifeless and he felt incredibly hot and ill. He must've been cursed or at least something like it.

"I feel awful," Harry said as quietly as he could, preventing himself from having his head done in by the swimmy feeling it was giving him.

Snape scowled at him in the darkness. "You've just tried the Killing Curse for the first and hopefully the last time; I'd expect you'd feel awful. Let's get you back to Hogwarts." Snape was about to help drag Harry from the ground, but Lucius came and stopped him. He threw off his Death Eater mask and yelled, "You don't get it to you?! You touched him, you emotional fool. You touched him and now he's been affected! The curse hit him, you see?!"

Snape looked at Lucius somberly. "I'll have Poppy check him out in the hospital wing, but for now, I'm taking him back where he belongs. Don't bother with me, Lucius. We're through, do you understand? Through. I've had enough. I've had enough of the Death Eaters, I've had enough of you."

"You were just waiting to see him die, weren't you?! You wanted our Master-"

"He is not our Master any longer! I don't see why I should pledge allegiance to a man who is dead. I plan to pledge my allegiance to a man who is alive and _well._"

"And who is that, I wonder?" said Lucius scathingly. "That miserable oaf of a man, Dumbledore?"

Snape glared at him for a moment before saying a short and curt, "Yes."

"Damn you!" shouted Lucius. "You've gone and betrayed us all! And to think our Master saw you like he saw a son. You're like a leaf in the wind; you fly from one tree to the next. I hope you're reasonably happy. Come along, Death Eaters."

And with that Lucius Malfoy led the group to a nearby, larger forest, from which they would not be seen for a very long time.

Snape smiled for the first time in a very long time and said, "Well, good riddance."

His smile vanished however when he suddenly saw Harry try and get off from the damp ground. "Harry?"

"I need to get back," Harry said, clenching his teeth. "I don't…I don't feel well at all."

"Harry, didn't I say that was to be expected after such an event?" Snape said. "I'm sure you'll be fine after a full nights rest. And then after that? Think of all the publicity you'll get; Harry Potter, the Golden Boy Saves the World."

The words sounded as if he was talking down to him, but something inside of Harry's head told him the words were meant to be kind, not scathing.

"I need to get back," Harry said. "Please, can you help me get back, Professor?"

Snape's eyebrows were raised. "You were always weak, Potter," Snape sneered. But the man chose to take one of Harry's arms around his shoulders.

Harry was grateful the man was acting like himself again. For once, he was grateful for that sneering man Harry called his Potions Master.

* * *

It was dark when they entered the castle. Snape took it upon himself to cast a Lumos. The entrance was the gate, and people were gathered outside. It seemed as though they were all waiting for something. For some sign of Harry, most probably. Chances were that Snape put a disillusionment charm on Harry before they got to the castle. Harry thought he felt something drip down his neck, but he wasn't sure if it was water from the trees or just plain sweat.

And Harry was currently slumping on Snape.

All that was running through his mind as he was dragged along by the Potions Master was that he had just _killed_ someone. And that someone just happened to be the dangerous and vile man on the face of this planet. No, scratch that, this man wasn't even human. He was a damned alien, sent on the earth just for world domination.

But Harry's thoughts were also on other things as they dragged along. His thoughts were also on what that strange spell had been that Voldemort had cast. Gravidanex…Harry was sure of it now, but he had no idea what on earth it meant. It sounded vile and horrid, but then again, most spells that Voldemort cast, were.

Maybe Voldemort didn't have that great of a thought process right before he died. Maybe that spell was just to turn his hair purple or something. And…the spell must not have worked, obviously, there was really nothing wrong with him except WAY too much adrenaline pumping in his system for his own good.

His heartrate was up, his head was spinning, his stomach was doing somersaults, and half the time he could've sworn he saw spots in front of his eyes.

What he needed now was a good lie down; something to keep him calm and relaxed…or something at least that calmed him down before he had a heart attack.

Once they had entered the kitchens, Harry heard the sound of scratching.

He looked to his left and saw a very scared and small house-elf. She appeared to be climbing into the cabinet…and he'd be so confused if the house-elf was cleaning it. Didn't house-elves have rights on whether they were allowed to be scared or not?

But Snape ignored this and simply dragged Harry into the Great Hall, where he presumed everybody would be waiting. And a disillusionment charm was exactly what Snape had put on him. The charm lifted as Harry and Snape entered the Great Hall…and they were met with gasps and cheers.

"Harry, oh my goodness, you're alive! Are you alright? He didn't curse you? REALLY?!"

"Tell us what happened, please!"

"I'm so glad you're alive, Harry! You've saved us all!"

Among those who had greeted him with both looks of horror and then amazement was Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Neville, Seamus, Colin, Fred, George, Markus, even Draco…and even Draco didn't listen to Snape's, "This boy needs to get to the hospital wing, don't you understand? He's just killed the Dark Lord!"

It was too much. Harry's heart started ringing in his ears, and the earth seemed to be moving at unnatural angles.

Harry suddenly fell straight on haunches and felt his head dipping to the side. Oh god, did he feel awful. He wondered if he was even going to be able to make it to the hospital wing.

Though he needn't have worried. Snape was on the job, and that was saying something. He picked Harry up with such agility, that for a moment, Harry wondered if he was just hallucinating.

"It's obvious you can't even make it to the Hospital Wing, Potter," Snape said.

And while they were down there…that's when they met Dumbledore, alive and well. He looked slightly haggard, as if he had done quite a bit of the fighting, yet, here he was, standing before them.

And for the first time in Harry's life, he saw the look of astoundment on Dumbledore's face.

"You-y-you…"

The man had also appeared to have lost speech.

"You-you…"

Harry's head was spinning too much to look up at his Headmaster anymore. His head felt so heavy now that he just _had_ to lay it on Snape's chest.

"He killed him, Headmaster," Snape said, cradling Harry's head in his hand. "He killed Voldemort."

It was weird; being held carefully by the man he had hated for all these years. It was a wonder to anyone how he had managed to survive. Maybe that's why Snape was actually being so _caring_ now. But he did it. Yes, he did it. He had killed him.

And as this thought suddenly occurred to him; really hitting him for the first time, he felt the heat in his face die away, his head clear…and then suddenly he felt as if his body was actually shutting down.

He whimpered, and Snape glanced down at him. "Harry, what's-"

But it was too late. Harry's head fell backward, and then there was complete darkness.

* * *

**Author's Note: ** Yeah, yeah, Harry lost consciousness again. Well, it looks like this chappie took me into the wee hours of the morning. I'm not going to be able to work tomorrow. Well, I am, but I'll just go home early and then study or something. Or more likely sleep. OMG, I love my story of this. Please R & R! :D


	3. Chapter 3

**One Year to Live **

**Author's Notes**: Okay, so yes, this story REALLY inspires me…I should make more like this. Simple plot. Excellent execution is key. And that's what I attempt to achieve. Now, I know I could've added more in the last chapter, but I didn't want to. The reason? Well…I wanted the entire chapter to seem like a blur…because that what it was from Harry's point of view…without it being in first person. I just don't like first person. Never have, never will. One reason why I dislike Twilight. Sorry, Twilight fans, I shall never be doing a "Cullen-mpreg" ever, but I think the look would suit him *giggles*

**Disclaimer: **Okay, so I would kiss, snog, and just maybe even SHAG Alan Rickman if I owned Harry Potter. But only if I owned it. If you can't tell, I'm a Rickman fan, all the way. Sexy voices count more than the face itself. Well, actually, I like the face of Alan Rickman too. THE END.

* * *

"I c-can't believe I didn't see it…"

"It will be fine, Severus, leave the explaining to me…"

"But, Albus, you understand what this implies? I'm going to be a-"

"The both of you, hush. You realize what this means for Harry as well, don't you? One year left, with anxiety, anticipation, pain, long-suffering, and agony at the end…"

"Don't forget, Molly, that I'll have child to look after…with no help whatsoever. Good Gods, what have I done?"

"Having a child is one of the most beautiful things in the world Severus, so don't you dare complain. Poor Harry's got enough on his hands to worry about, than just you being a-"

"Will you both please calm down? Anyways, I believe our young hero is finally waking up…"

Indeed, Harry was finally starting to wake up. Although he felt light-headed, he was able to actually sit up slightly. "W-what happened? Where am I?"

"It's alright, Harry," soothed Dumbledore. "You're safe now. You're in the hospital wing, and Poppy needs to run a few tests."

Harry blinked up at the Headmaster. "Did I do anything wrong?"

Dumbledore looked surprised at this. "Wrong? Of course not! You killed Voldemort and the spirit of Tom Riddle was finally put to rest. Don't worry my boy, you've done everything right. It just seems as though…"

"What?"

Dumbledore paused. "I'm sorry, Harry but…"

"But what, sir?" Harry asked, his eyes flickering in uncertainty.

Much to Dumbledore's thankfulness, Poppy came scurrying in and began fussing over Harry, waving her wand over him and then taking a few things into account like his temperature, his blood and the consistency and random bacteria in it, and then of course there was the urine test…

"I didn't think I needed that," Harry said, blushing quite badly. His hair actually stood up on end at this suggestion.

"Dumbledore, just get it over with. I know it's difficult, but just do it," said Poppy impatiently, tapping her foot on the ground. "I have to get…that test."

Harry's eyes widened. "What test? Headmaster, what did I not defend myself from?"

Dumbledore's eyes softened and he put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "This one was unblockable. And completely unexpected. Coming from him, this was practically ingenius."

Harry's green eyes flickered again and he looked at Dumbledore, heartily confused.

"This one what, Professor?" he said, his voice dropping an octave in his anxiety.

Dumbledore sighed and took off his moon-spectacled glasses. "I'm sorry, Harry. A curse, or should I also say, a blessing in disguise got through."

"G-got through? I'm not about to die or something…right?"

Dumbledore, Severus, Molly, and Poppy all looked at each other expectedly and hesitantly.

"We all die one day, Harry," said Dumbledore calmly. "But unfortunately, because of what the spell did to you, you will die sooner."

Dumbledore's bluntness was so shocking that even Molly had to gasp. "Dumbledore…" she whimpered.

Harry's eyes seemed to cast a shadow now. They no longer held the glitter that always belonged to Harry James Potter. "I'm going to die…early?"

Dumbledore looked him carefully in the eyes, gently drew the back of Harry closer to him, and then said, "Harry, you have one year left to live. And it's not going to be easy either."

Harry just stared at him for a moment before asking, "What do you mean it's not going to be easy?"

It was quite a time before anyone said anything. And then finally, Molly, not able to bear the silence both in physical and verbal activity, came over and sat down on the bed next to Harry. She took his hand in hers and said quietly, almost whispered, "You're going to be a father, Harry."

Harry looked at her, almost alarmed. "But I saw Tonks and Remus…out there…I know I'm their kids god-father and all but…I-"

"Harry, no, that's not what I mean," said Mrs. Weasley, quieting him. "I mean, you're going to have a child before you die, Harry."

Harry looked at her, completely alarmed now. "But…me and Ginny…and swear we DIDN'T DO ANYTHING. We just kissed, that's all…I mean, really, Mrs. Weasley…"

She quieted him once more. "Harry, I know, she told me, but this is not between you and Ginny, this is between you and Professor Snape."

Harry looked doubly alarmed now, his face turning a shade of pale green. "Me and…P-Professor Snape?" He was breathing heavily and he suddenly felt his entire body break into a cold sweat.

"Yes dear, you and Professor Snape. You see-"

"You see, Harry…" said Professor Dumbledore, taking up where Mrs. Weasley left off, "-the spell was called Gravidanex. In Latin, that spells out to be _pregnant death_ and is a very _very_ rare spell…something I have not heard in a long time…old and crude magic. Basically, it means, Harry, you will live for a year…while you are carrying the child of the first person you came into contact with…which was Professor Snape here."

Professor Snape looked almost embarrassed at this and hung his head slightly, looking at the floor, not saying a word to anyone.

"C-carrying the c-child…of Professor Snape? You mean…I'm actually going to have to…you mean…I'm actually…"

"You're pregnant, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley shortly, her lips twitching into something of a half smile.

"Congratulations," sneered Snape, and he stalked out of the hospital wing, running his hands through his greasy hair in frustration, irritation, and disbelief.

Harry, still unable to come to terms with what had just been said, looked from one face to the other.

"Has…Sirius been told about this?" said Harry, gulping.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, he has, and he is passed out under your bed right now as we speak. He has not woken yet."

Harry looked at everyone, and then carefully maneuvered himself to where he could see Sirius under the bed. He was currently in dog form, and resting there, quite peacefully.

Everything seemed to be flooding to Harry all at once. The thoughts, the disbelief, the relief, and the horror, all at once.

"I-I'm going to be a father," he whispered, and he collapsed for the third time that day, sprawled out on the hospital wing bed, where Poppy said quietly, "Give him some time. He'll come around to the realization of it soon enough. And so will Snape."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Geezz…I LOVED writing this chapter. I'm at work, if you didn't know. But, thankfully, I wrote this over lunch, so, haha! Anyways, ZOMG, I loved the chapter. I hope you did too. Read and review please!


	4. Chapter 4

**One Year to Live **

**Author's Notes**: Love, love, LOVE, this story. So angsty (well, it'll get there soon) and soooooo real. And if you didn't know already, I write stories like this…to relieve myself of the boredom of work. Yes, work can be quite tedious at times. Luckily, I have a decent desk job where I can afford to write stories in my free time. Like lunch. Or in the morning, when I can actually afford to be a little lazy. Plus, it takes away the monotony of my job (working with CRMs, databases, and telemarketing). So, yes, enjoy yet another chapter of my story of One Year to Live.

**Disclaimer: **I just know that JK Rowling's read some of these fanfictions (given Deathly Hallows features)…but I would love to see Daniel Radcliffe find one of these and go, "OMG." X.x Or even Alan Rickman. Would absolutely LOVE to read his expression.

* * *

The next thing Harry knew when he woke up again, was that he was surrounded by all of his friends; by Hermione, Ron, Neville, Colin, Luna, Ginny, Fred, George, Seamus, and then even Cho. They were all standing around his bedside quietly talking with each other.

The topic was obvious: Harry. But they weren't speaking about anything regarding a baby or anything.

Harry opened his eyes and found that he had a very large black down resting his head on his chest and a paw on his stomach. Sirius. Harry smiled wistfully. The man had his hand protectively over his stomach. Looked like he was still resting peacefully, but at least he had woken up some time earlier to be with him.

"Sirius," he whispered. "Sirius?"

The dog suddenly raised its scraggly head and looked up at surprise at him. The dog seemed to smile and then raised its head. The dog transformed into the big man Sirius had known as his godfather.

"Harry!" the man said lovingly, and he gently wrapped his arms around Harry. Harry hugged him back, his eyes filling with tears. "I don't…I don't know what I'm going to do, Sirius…"

Saying these words caused all of his friends to jerk their heads in his direction. "Harry!" cried Hermione, and she practically launched herself to his side.

"Harry, mate, it's going to be okay. You just defeated Voldemort after all," Ron said uncomfortably, trailing along behind Hermione.

It was strange for Ron to say Voldemort's name so casually. He usually shrunk at the name. Now he could say it with confidence.

At look on Harry's face, Sirius said, "Harry, Voldemort's name was a curse in itself; that's why everyone shuddered at the name."

"Oh," Harry said, looking down at his feet. Another really strange thought occurred to him. In just a few months, he probably wouldn't be able to see his feet anymore. He screwed his face up at the thought.

He looked at Sirius. "Do they know yet? About…everything?" Harry asked him quietly. He knew the answer before Sirius even said it. The puzzled looks on his friend's faces said it all.

"No, Harry, they don't. We thought you could explain it. I'll help you, if you want," Sirius said.

Harry nodded. This would be even more difficult with _all_ of them being around. It would highly difficult. Okay, that was putting it mildly. Incredibly difficult would've been better.

Everybody was staring at him expectedly. They all wanted to know exactly what was going on and why Harry was acting so…strange. And Harry knew, if he didn't tell them now, that they were bound to ask him what the hell was going on with him in just a few months. He wondered exactly how far along he was now? A day? Was that even possible? He never really remembered what the magical properties were of reproduction were in those, "The Magical Anatomy," classes.

"Harry? What's wrong? What's going on?" Hermione asked, her voice dropping slightly. She could tell that by the look on both Sirius's and Harry's face that something was very _very_ wrong.

Harry wondered how he should broach this subject. Should he be blunt with her and them or should he just ease into it gently? Should he say he'll be alright in the end, or should he say, yes, that he was going to die. A lump formed in his throat. God, this felt so embarrassing, if not a horrifying thing to discuss.

"Harry, mate, you look like you're about to be sick. You okay?"

Harry nodded his head, took a deep breath, and said, "I'm going to be a father."

The look on Ron's face was priceless. And then it turned into one of complete rage. "You…son…of…a…bastard…" he growled. "How _dare_ you do that to my little sister! We're best blokes, or shall I say, _were_…How dare you even _think_ of doing _that _with my-"

Harry sat straight up in his bed and said, "No! No Ron, it's not like that!"

Sirius tried to calm the flaming red haired boy, but to no avail. The boy was practically livid. Harry finally got up on top of his bed and shouted, "Talk to your damn mother if you don't believe me! Go ahead, do it!" With these last words spoken, tears rolled down his cheeks and he choked out, "I can't let you-"

"RONALD WEASLEY!!" shrieked Ginny, who sounded very similar to Ron's mother at the moment, stomped up to him, and slapped him straight across the face.

THWACK!!

Ronald Weasley was stunned. So much that he actually became lock-jawed. "I'm not pregnant, you idiot. I'm so small, you would've seen it by now! We've never done anything besides snog, and shagging is most definitely not on my list of things to _do _right now! So shut your big, fat, hairy mouth!"

Ronald was quiet, and Fred and George seemed just as stunned. "Then what do you mean by-"

"You're going to be a father?" asked Fred and George.

Harry took another deep breath. "Meaning…that…I was…well…cursed by Voldemort before I, uh, killed him. He…he cursed…me."

All of his friends eye's widened and they immediately began questioning him. "Cursed?" "What do you mean by cursed if you're going to be a father? What do you mean by 'you're going to be a father?' If you're joking with us, we swear we'll hex you into infinity-"

"ENOUGH!" shouted Sirius. They all seemed to quiet down at this. "Now, I will explain everything if you all just _shut your traps._"

They all looked at him expectedly. The silence was almost deafening.

"Okay, let's start out with this. During the final battle, Harry was cursed right before Voldemort died. The curse was Gravidanex, a very old and crude curse, and basically it means, 'pregnant death.' The spell causes whomever is hit to become…with child…and die shortly after the child is born."

Everyone simply stared at Sirius. Before anyone even said anything, Hermione said, "I've never even…heard of this…curse…or blessing…really. Oh my God, Harry."

Everybody's jaw seemed to be touching the floor. Finally, Ron managed to say something. "I-I'm sorry, Harry. I-It just seemed-Bloody hell, mate, you're actually going to have to go through what my _mother_ went through…a lot of times…but this means you'll die…shit, mate. I-I'm sorry."

Fred and George finally managed to say something too, "Who the hell is the-"

"Other father then? Voldemort?"

"No," Harry said. He found himself breathing with difficulty. This was almost tougher than telling them he was going to die. "The other person…just happens to be…ugh…Snape."

He felt very ill at this point, and everyone began yelling in indignity. "Dear god, that man?! Harry, is there no way that you could've gotten somebody ELSE to sire you're freakin' child?!"

"Shut up!" Sirius said. "Before Poppy comes running in here with a broom and knocks you all out of here!"

Harry finally felt a little woozy and decided to sit down. This was ridiculous. He couldn't even talk to his friends without them yelling at him.

"B-but…he can't abort it, can he?" Hermione ask, her arms wrapped around herself in a comforting manner.

Harry hadn't even thought of it and glad he didn't. He really didn't think that was a good idea anyways; I mean, it was a child, wasn't it? It was going to eventually become an adult, wasn't it? Then killing it would've been…well...he had already killed before. He didn't want to kill again.

"No, or so Poppy says. The baby has been implanted in there magically. There are spells defending this child, and aborting it is not even possible, much less necessary," Sirius replied.

"Does anyone know how far along he is?" asked Luna casually. The way she said it seemed so natural and so unhinged from reality that Harry wondered if she was on something. Then again, everyone always assumed she was _on_ something.

"So far? About six weeks, Poppy figures," Sirius said. "It's going to be a little bit harder on Harry since it's a…curse. A little bit rougher, Poppy figures."

Harry lay back down against the pillows and moaned, rubbing his hands in front of his face. He felt the lump in his throat tighten and he threw an extra pillow over his face. If all the things Mrs. Weasley ranted off about pregnancy in the Weasley home, then he was in for one hell of a ride.

For a year. And then, he was gone.

Never to see his friends again. Ever.

He felt hot tears run down his face as he realized just exactly _what _Voldemort had done to him, what exactly he was going to have to do now and what he had to look forward to. He hiccupped and Harry began to sob into the pillow.

Harry felt Sirius pull back the pillow slightly and said, "Harry. It's going to be alright. We'll help you through this, okay?"

Harry just hiccupped in response, and began sobbing harder into the pillow. God, he was such an idiot. It took him until _now_, with all his friends watching, to realize that he was in for probably the worst ride of his life.

He sobbed harder and harder into the pillow until Sirius removed the pillow from his hands and pulled Harry into a hug. He felt Sirius motioning for them, his friends to do the same, and he felt everyone's hands try and hug him too. He sobbed into Sirius's shirt and Sirius rocked him…until he cried himself out.

Whenever everyone had released him, Harry had fallen unconscious, once again drifting into the sea of darkness…where darkness would crawl into his dreams and make him suffer.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **EMO. Yes, a very emo chapter. Oh well. Deal with it. It's a good old story. And as for the review regarding no sex in MPREG. YES!!! IT is TERRIBLY difficult to find an MPREG story without any sex in it. Which is why I'm writing this story, because I'm sick and tired of seeing smutty MPREG. MPREG does not have to be smutty or have sex thrown it to make it GOOD. I want to prove that by writing these stories. So…tadah! :D Enjoy.


	5. Chapter 5

**One Year to Live **

**Author's Notes**: Geez, I'm finding a lot more windows to write this story into. Okay, then, here's the next chapter.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Harry Potter, I would add MPREG into the story and freak all my readers out. Especially their parents :P

* * *

"Now, Mr. Potter-"

"I know, I know, you put the books on my bed for me. Thank you, Madame Pomphrey."

"And I want you to read each of them thoroughly. They are very informative and precise. Also, dear, since Molly Weasley will be around, ask her for advice. She's a very knowledgeable woman about these sorts of things."

Harry nodded, and he stuffed the piece of paper Madame Pomphrey had given to him into his pocket. It was a written prescription for loads of potions, a few of which he didn't even know the names of. He was supposed to walk down to the dungeons, give the written prescription ticket to Snape, walk up to the Headmaster's office, get his timetable for his last year of school that he missed and discuss a few other things with him, and then walk back to the Great Hall to have the Celebration Feast regarding the death of Voldemort.

Scrimgeour was supposed to be there, and there were supposed to be awards given out.

Harry knew he would be getting one, but he didn't care about it, really. He was just glad that the whole ordeal with Voldemort was over. The only problem was that he had a brand NEW ordeal he had to sort out, and it was going to be probably the most strange and harrowing experience of his life.

Or at least what was left of it.

He sighed as he made his way out of the Hospital Wing, past rows and rows of filled beds of those who were still recovering from the ordeal with the Death Eaters. He looked down at the floor instead of looking at their faces. Many of them were still sleeping, but a few were calling out to him, thanking him for his heroic Gryffindor bravery.

But at the moment, Harry felt the most scared he had felt in a long time. Even more so than during the last battle with Voldemort. This was had to be the number one, most frightening experience Harry was ever to be a part of.

Millions of thoughts were running through his head as he made his way down to the dungeons and he slowly pulled out the prescription ticket from his pocket.

Was he even going to be alive long enough to see his child for a while? Would he even have the time to name her? Or him, whichever it was.

He had heard the term, "Womanly intuition," before, of women who could correctly guess the gender of their child before it was even found out. Would he have that ability?

He finally found himself in front of the Slytherin dungeon doors. He pushed them open, and walked down the hallway, and then entered the Potions classroom.

He cautiously entered, hoping he wasn't disturbing anything the Potions Master was doing.

The room was dark, as if it was unoccupied, but Harry had the distinct feeling that someone was in here. He whispered a soft, "Hello?" but received no response in return.

He continued to walk around various cauldrons and a wide variety of potions equipment on each of the tables, but was surprised when he didn't even see Snape at his desk. The desk was piled high with papers, and books of all shapes and sizes. He wondered if the man was behind on grading. That was strange, because of all the things Snape seemed to love doing the most, it was grading papers…low. Even being nitpicky on Hermione's.

This of course made Hermione itch with both embarrassment and fury, but she managed to hide it well.

Harry turned a corner and saw his private lab room. He knocked twice, but heard no answer.

The door was unlocked and Harry decided he might as well open the door. He said a quick, "I'm coming in," and opened the large dungeon door.

What he saw upon arrival was most probably the most unexpected thing Harry had ever seen from his Potions Master.

Behind the large cauldron, which had nothing in it, not even a vial around it, was Snape, lying there, back relaxed against it.

He was glaring at the ceiling. A menacing glare, which Harry could only assume that meant he was thinking hard. Either that, or furious about something.

"Professor?" Harry queried, looking at the man sitting on the floor in front of him.

Also to Harry's surprise, the man seemed to glide off the floor, stand up fully, and then glared at Harry as he had glared at the ceiling.

"What is it, Potter?" asked Snape, testily. Harry could only assume that Snape's concentration had been broken and was now mad at him for it.

Harry took a moment to collect himself and then thrust the prescription ticket from Madame Pomphrey to Snape. "S-she wants you to brew these…or she wants you to give them to me," Harry said quietly, looking up at the Potions Master.

The man's eyebrows furrowed as he read the potions. He then stuffed the prescription in his own pocket, and then motioned for Harry to follow him.

They walked from his private lab to his private store room, where he picked out as the potions that Harry needed. Some were very large bottles, and others were very small.

He grabbed a paper bag from the wall, and stuffed the bottles carefully into it.

He pushed the bag into Harry's arms and said stiffly, "You're to take each of these potions, twice a day, for the next 9 months. They are nutrient potions. It'd be best if you take each swill with your breakfast and then your dinner. You might notice your nails become stronger with taking these potions. That's normal."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"You're to take the purple bottle's potion only when you desperately need it," Snape said. "It's a morning sickness potion. The potion itself can be potent if you take too much of it; It contains glucose and sucrose to raise the blood sugar of the drinker since that is the main cause of morning sickness and drinking too much of it can make you hyperglycemic. I cannot give you a regular anti-nausea potion because some of the ingredients are dangerous for the…"

The Potions Master stopped, collected himself, and then finished, "…_my_ child."

Harry's face burned red at this. It was so odd for Snape to be speaking like this; it was almost embarrassing. Thankfully, this seemed to be the end of Snape's informative speech.

Harry seemed to be dazed a might, but Snape snapped his fingers in front of him. "Head up to the Headmaster's office; he wants to see you," Snape said shortly. "Go."

Harry nodded, turned, and was about to leave the dungeons whenever Snape said, "Wait."

Harry stopped abruptly, and turned to face him again.

The man grabbed a book from his private lab's desk, and put it into Harry's potion sack.

"A name book," Snape said simply. "Wizarding names. Find something appropriate."

With that, the man pushed Harry out of his private lab, and then slammed the door.

Whenever Harry felt it was safe, he took the book out of the bag and looked at the front cover.

"_Wizarding Names for your Wizard or Witch,"_ read the title. It was a relatively small, but thick book, and Harry opened it only to find a long list of names starting with A's.

_Aaries_

_Abacer_

_Abal_

_Abalion_

_Abbesto_

_Abbet_

Harry didn't like any of those names, and shut the book. He would have to look through it later.

Now, he had to get to the Headmaster's office.

* * *

The walk from the dungeons up to the Headmaster's office had left Harry panting for breath. He wondered briefly why he got exhausted so quickly, but soon forced it out of his mind. Probably something that had to do with his…pregnancy.

The word seemed so foreign to Harry, he briefly wondered if he was caught in limbo between life and death and was dreaming all of this.

It would've been far better than the current situation.

The two gargoyles guarding the Headmaster's office asked for the password and Harry gave the password that Pomphrey had given him. The gargoyles seemed to accept, "Hot fudge chocolate," and let him pass through.

He soon relaxed as he stepped onto the rotating staircase, sitting on the bottom stair and closing his eyes as it rotated. The rotation made Harry feel sick, but he managed to keep whatever food Madame Pomphrey managed to throw down his throat that morning in his stomach. He sighed in relief whenever the rotation stopped, and he got up and walked up the staircase.

He knocked on the Headmaster's door and he received a cheery, "Come in!" from not one, but three voices. He opened the door and was surprised to see Professor Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Prime Minister Scrimgeour all sitting around Dumbledore's desk.

Harry carefully shut the door behind him, and then walked into the room, bypassing Fawkes, who squawked lovingly at him.

"Have a seat, Harry," said Professor Dumbledore as he conjured a comfy chintz chair for Harry to sit on.

Harry sat down carefully on the chair, and leaned back onto one of the arms. Dumbledore smiled at him, but was distracted by the voice of Scrimgeour.

"Dumbledore was just telling me of your…situation…" said Scrimgeour, uncomfortably. "I don't know what else to tell you except, I'm sorry for such a thing to happen to you. I don't know…really…what else to say. Perhaps thank you for your outstanding services to the Ministry for Magic, would suffice?"

Harry nodded his head and looked down onto the floor, pretending to take interest in his toes.

"It was just really necessary to get rid of him…" Harry said. "There wasn't any other option."

"I know," said Scrimgeour, "…but he forced you into a situation…which is quite difficult…to cope with. I'm terribly sorry for such a thing to happen to you."

Harry took a deep breath and said, "Don't worry about it, Minister. It really…it's really…okay."

Scrimgeour, seeming satisfied with this response, bowed his head towards Dumbledore and McGonagall, rose from his chair, and said, "Well then. I suppose I'll be seeing all of you at the Celebration Feast. Goodbye, Professor, Headmaster, Harry."

And with that, he walked out of the office, gently limping on his cane as he went.

Whenever the door had closed behind the Minister, Dumbledore said, "Alright now, let's get down to business, shall we?"

Harry and McGonagall nodded in unison and Dumbledore said, "Harry, we need to discuss the changes to your timetable and who you'll be working with during this year."

Harry nodded and looked at Dumbledore expectedly.

Dumbledore sighed and said, "Snape has been willing to take on the rest of your education. He will be your private teacher for the remainder of the year."

Harry's face fell. That man…who sired his child by _chance_ was now taking it upon himself to _teach _Harry?

"Sir…he…he wants to teach me?"

Dumbledore smiled absentmindedly and looked at McGonagall. She nodded her head, her glasses dipping as she did so and she said, "Since you will no longer be able to take the activity involved in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration, or take up flying again, you will simply study those 7th year subjects with Professor Snape. He will teach you theories and ideas revolving around those subjects and the others including History of Magic, Ancient Runes, Herbology, and Arithmancy."

Harry was well aware of having to give up taking certain subjects due to the dangerous nature of them (thanks to Poppy telling him and reminding him constantly to be careful), but he was shocked that Snape, of all people, was willing to put up with him.

"But…Snape?" Harry queried, his nose scrunching up at the name as if it was some sour odor that had flown in and out of the room.

"_Professor_ Snape, Harry," corrected Dumbledore. "I believe he wants to atone for the predicament he has suddenly put you in, Harry."

"I also believe," cut in Professor McGonagall, "That he wants to get to know you better…so that he will understand your child as well."

Harry's face fell even further. So he was going to have to get "deep" with the man. That was going to be interesting.

"Now," finished Dumbledore. "Since we have discussed this, here is your timetable for this starting week."

The moon-spectacled man handed the timetable to Harry, and Harry took a glance at it. His jaw dropped as he saw the ridiculous schedule. It looked something like this:

**Monday:** Transfiguration, Potions 12:30 to 2:00, Defense Against the Dark Arts 5:00 to 7:00

**Tuesday: **Arithmancy, History of Magic 12:30 to 2:30 Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions 5:00 to 8:00

**Wednesday: **Herbology, Ancient Runes 12:30 to 2:00 Theories in Flying, Transfiguration 5:00 to 8:00

**Thursday: **Potions, History of Magic 12:00 to 2:30 Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes 4:00 to 8:00

**Friday: **Personal Studies, Personal Studies 12:00 to 2:00 Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology 4:00 to 9:00

**Saturday: **Personal Studies 3:00 to 4:00

**Sunday: **No classes.

"Obviously," Professor Dumbledore said. "We had to work around Professor Snape's own class schedule and your soon-to-be schedule. You will have to finish any assignment that Snape gives you in between those times. Is that acceptable, Harry?"

Harry was stunned. The Headmaster of Hogwarts was asking HIM if his class schedule was acceptable?

"Of course it is!" said Harry, amused. "But…but what are personal studies?"

Dumbledore smiled and said, "Ah, that was an interesting little thing we ran into. That will be Professor Snape, Madame Pomphrey, and Madame Pince's decision."

Harry nodded, folded the piece of paper, and put it into his pocket for safekeeping.

"Now Harry, you will find this schedule difficult, and Professor Snape's assignments probably even more so, but I think you will find _this _year the most productive you have ever had at Hogwarts," Professor Dumbledore. "So please, Harry, stick to this timetable and listen to Professor Snape's lessons. Trust me, you can learn a lot from the knowledgeable man."

Harry took a deep breath and smiled at Dumbledore. "Yes, sir," he said dutifully.

"Good. Now then, let me and Professor McGonagall escort you down to the Great Hall where we will all dig into our Celebration Feast!"

And with that, Professor McGonagall, the Headmaster, and Harry, all walked down to the Great Hall, where a huge feast was waiting for them.

_Wonderful,_ thought Harry. _This year will be…the most productive year…ever. I wonder what Snape will have in store for me?

* * *

_

**Author's Notes: **OMG, I LOVED THIS CHAPTER. It was SOOOO much fun to write. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as me. Here's the next chapter! Please read and review! :D


	6. Chapter 6

**One Year to Live **

**Author's Notes**: Okay, well, I've been a little less busy with my job as of late, so I can write another chapter for all of you. Oh, btw, I have another story idea I'd like to work on. Unfortunately, it's not an MPREG, but it's so original, I could care less. It's uh, a big Snape-fest, but even more so…it's got a lot of Snape action, with an interesting OC…and it's not romantic AT ALL (sorry folks; I don't have the talent for it)…it's more of special cousin-meet-cousin. Special cousin part to be explained later.

**Disclaimer:** I wish, I so DEEPLY wish that I owned Harry Potter so I could form it to whatever I wished…however out-of-the-box I wanted it, like the Curious Case of Benjamin Button…but alas, the story can only be fanficked by fanfictioneers and edited by the lovely JK Rowling. So wala.

* * *

The Celebration Feast had not even started, but it did not even cross Severus Snape's mind. Staring at the Headmaster's ceiling was one thing, but having the Headmaster speak to him in that cheery tone was another.

Dumbledore had been sent a message from Scrimgeour just before they even entered the first floor. An owl had given it to him and he sent McGonagall away, as well as excused himself from Harry's presence. He then called Snape to him. And now, Snape was sitting in front of him, sneering irritatingly in the direction of the Headmaster.

"Severus, the boy needs to graduate. I've been getting warnings from Scrimgeour that if the boy doesn't take the required amount of certain classes that he will discharge him from the school and Harry will be sent back to Grimmauld Place. By the Wizengamot, yes, he _does_ have the power to do this. Why the man would be so hard on him, I have no idea. The boy's just saved the Wizarding World after all. He's like Fudge, with fangs."

Snape glared up once again at the ceiling. For the love of God, this man was infuriating.

"The boy will _die_, Albus, in a _year_! Who _cares_ if he graduates or not? And Harry would be _happy_ to live in Grimmauld Place with his sickening godfather. Why not just let Scrimgeour discharge him from the school? Why I ever even offered to teach him this school year is beyond me."

Dumbledore seemed to roll his eyes at this. "Because, Severus, there are Death Eaters still _out _there. Malfoy has been gathering more followers and has disowned his son due to his disloyalty. They are getting stronger, Severus, and Hogwarts is still the safest place to be. If he is alone at Grimmauld Place, even with his godfather there, Harry is leaving himself extremely vulnerable in that place, in his current state-"

"Albus, anybody would be vulnerable in his current state," drawled out Snape.

"Severus, there are also possibilities that Harry may _not_ die at the end of the year. He has a chance at life, and that is one I'd like to give him," Albus said, his eyes glittering in pure defiance. "I have it on the strictest of confidences that our lovely Mrs. Granger is currently looking up ways that it would be possible to save him. She's even managed to make Madame Pince allow her into the Restricted Section, with my permission of course."

Severus rolled his eyes. "You know, Albus, that there are hardly _any_ records of this spell being used, much less any records of anyone being able to actually _reverse the effects _of it."

Albus glared at Snape with a glare that could only signify that _he _was trying too. The man really _did_ want Harry alive, whether Snape wanted to believe it or not.

"Damn it, Albus, the boy isn't going to be helpless you know. Allow him to live in bloody Grimmauld Place, for all I care. Instruct ministry officials or even Aurors to guard the house in case a Death Eater _does_ show up," Snape said, waving a crossed arm listlessly.

"Severus, I've already tried that, but the Aurors have got their hands tied down with getting the Dementors and Azkaban back in order. That and cleaning up after the messes that were made by Voldemort. The man did go out with a _bang._"

"Indeed," snorted Snape.

"So, I've asked you to do me a big favor in regards to Harry staying at the school this year," Albus said quietly, looking at Snape carefully.

"And what is that, Headmaster?" Snape asked.

Dumbledore sighed and then stared straight into Snape's deep black eyes. "To go easy on Harry. The timetable I gave him isn't even remotely stable. Your skills at writing timetables are even more degrading than your people skills. Thank God McGonagall has the sense to write them out properly. The boy won't be able to make it to _all_ the classes, surely, and he'll be too exhausted to write 10 page essays on the effects of the latest venoms of snakes from southeast Persia. Just make sure the boy has something to _read_ during the year, and not to worry himself over his certain _death. _

Just give him enough so that he can pass. The occasional essay. The occasional chapter to read. If he doesn't get it all done…then we can always hope for the best…next year."

Snape once again rolled his eyes. "I truly hate your optimism, Albus."

Albus smiled in return. "And I truly dislike your cynicism, Severus."

"Well, if this is all you called me for," said Snape. "Then you are truly wasting your time. I and I alone volunteered for this position in teaching him and it is my duty to watch over his studies."

Albus gave him a menacing, very frightening glare. "If that is your response, then I shall simply give the job to McGonagall. At the very least, she can be a bit more sympathetic than you are being right now, Severus."

Snape's mouth twitched.

"Fine," he said after all. "I'll go easy on the boy."

Dumbledore seemed to relax a little. "Good," he said. "Now let's head down to the Celebration Feast, shall we?"

* * *

Harry had been greeted by an overexcited house-elf named Ebbly to help him change for the Celebration Feast. The house-elf had given him brand new dress robes, and even brand new shoes for the event.

"Thanks Ebbly," he said, as he finished fastening his robes. "Who gave these to me, by the way?"

Ebbly turned to look at him. "The giver wishes his gift to be anonymous, sir," squeaked the house-elf. "He does not want Ebbly to tell."

"So it's a _he_?" Harry asked. He felt a smile creep up onto his face, something that he had not felt for what seemed like ages.

Ebbly put his hands over his mouth and squeaked, "You mustn't say anything about this, sir. I only meant that the giver was anonymous!"

Harry laughed and said, "Don't worry about it. I won't tell anyone. Tell whoever gave this to me, that I am grateful."

The house-elf nodded, and then ran out the door into the Gryffindor hallway. The house-elf had sounded like he ran into somebody, and Harry was greeted by a Ron stumbling into the room.

"What was that bloody house-elf doing in here?" Ron asked. "Nearly ran over me, little tripe. Wouldn't Hermione just _kill _me if I said that in front of her?"

Harry gave a small laugh in reply. Yes, of course, Hermione was always on the stampede with her S.P.E.W. And at the moment, Harry didn't mind. As long as she was around.

"So, who gave you the dress robes?" asked Ron. "A gift from Dumbledore or something?"

"Probably," replied Harry. "I don't usually like taking gifts from people, but this one was pretty nice. Besides, I don't fit into my old pair anymore."

Ron seemed to go red instantaneously. "You showing already, mate? I didn't think anyone started showing that earl-"

"Ron, the Yule Ball was, what was it, 3 years ago? I've gotten taller and more well fed thanks to your mother. If I start to show, I'll let you know," Harry said, blushing hard himself. "I'm only 6 weeks, Ron. I can't really start showing…yet. Or at least, I don't think so."

It appeared as though both of them still felt the whole idea of Harry being pregnant, was very _very_ odd. That and a tad bit embarrassing. But the aftermath seemed even more frightening.

There was the sound of rushing footsteps and suddenly, Hermione came bounding to see the pair of them both looking red and slightly off balance.

"Were the pair of you doing something strange?" she asked. "Because both of you look like you've got the words _embarrassment _and _stupefied _stamped all across your face."

"N-no," stammered Harry. "We just…were discussing…why Dumbledore sent me away."

"Y-yeah," said Ron. "Harry's just been telling me…how Dumbledore…sent him away," Ron said lamely.

"Oh," Hermione said. "Well, I'm sure you'll tell us all about it during the Celebration Feast. I am famished; I've been in the library all day-"

"Reading up on more ways you can free the house-elves? I've got one that knocked me over in the hallway that I think might be an interesting case."

"Ron," Hermione said, now turning red herself. "Shut up. Come on. Everyone's down there, and I know since you _never_ stop eating, that you'll be ready for such a great feast. Besides, I also need to know about your timetable, Harry. I'm guessing you're finishing up the school year too. Dumbledore doesn't seem to want to let us go, just yet. I wonder why, though."

"Why?" asked Ron. "We did all that work to defeat old Voldy-pants, and now the thanks we get for that is more homework and assignments?"

"We never did finish up our last year, Ron," said Hermione. "Just because we helped save the Wizarding World, doesn't mean the Wizarding World isn't going to do us any real favors in return. We may get honored, but we can't skip out on school. We still have to follow the law. It's the way the world usually revolves."

Ron frowned at this. "What a lousy thank you. Well, you can at least be rest assured that you'll get Order of Merlin, First Class, Harry," said Ron. "Trust me, you're getting a First Class whether Scrimgeour, that old vampire, likes it or not. Come on, let's get going."

And finally, after all the interruptions of the day, Hermione, Ron, and Harry all traipsed down to the Great Hall for a splendid Celebration Feast.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I have to give credit to excessivelyperky for actually helping me in realizing my sad mistake. I had this already written out in an outline, but I forgot to insert it into the story…why Harry was even staying at Hogwarts for another year in the first place. Thanks excessivelyperky. Yes, there's going to be a little more plot development with Lucius Malfoy in some of the other chapters. Be happy, Lucius fans. Anyways, please read and review.


	7. Chapter 7

**One Year to Live **

**Author's Notes**: I thought since I've already been on such a roll, I might as well stick with it. GUESS WHAT?! SIMS 3 COMES OUT ON JUNE 2nd. I've already put a down payment on it at my local Gamestop. Huzzah. Anyways, here's to the next chapter. May it be a mite better than the last one.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Well, you get the picture. I don't own Harry Potter. I obviously don't have as many skills as her in writing…but who really cares since this is simply an enjoyable pastime?

* * *

Harry could not remember a time when he was more stressed about an achievement. Scrimgeour had given an incredibly flowery speech, probably more so than even Fudge could have given.

And when it was Harry's turn to step up to the front center of the Great Hall and be given his award, he felt as if he was stepping into the hottest pits of hell.

On top of shaking, he was sweating almost uncontrollably. He wiped his hands on his brand new dress robes, hoping to staunch the sweat flow. It was embarrassing. But as soon as he heard his name, "Harry Potter," he felt his stomach flip into his throat.

He tried loosening his collar a bit, and walked as swiftly and confidently as he could. He made it to the podium without any problems, thank heavens.

Scrimgeour patted Harry on the back and then began his speech about how the boy had saved the Wizarding World and all of Muggle-Mankind…yes, the speech was almost sickening, to the point of downright disgusting.

When he was finished, he handed Harry the scroll, and Harry was given the infamous words, "Order of Merlin-First Class."

After this speech, the handing of the scroll, and the announcement of Order of Merlin, everyone gave Harry a standing ovation, and there were what felt like a thousand flashes going off after Harry held up the scroll. He knew his smile must've looked goofy in all of the camera's pictures, but at that moment, he didn't care. He just wanted to get off the stage.

As soon as he got off the stage and away from the podium, he felt his stomach drop once more, and the urge to gag receded.

Deciding that this was the best time to make an exit, since Scrimgeour was still talking, and people would be less likely to follow him anywhere, he walked quickly to the back of the Great Hall's entrance, and went through the doors.

Once down the hall, and closer to the boy's bathrooms, he felt safe. He sat down tiredly on the floor, took off his collar, and threw it on the floor next to him. He laid the scroll down next to him carefully. He sighed, glad for the relief of not having to face everyone's congratulations and stares.

He was about to go into the boy's bathroom to wash his face and get rid of the nasty sweat now trailing down his face, when he heard a soft voice from the edge of the darkened hallway, only lit by small wall sconces. "Harry?"

"Professor Dumbledore…" Harry breathed.

Professor Dumbledore casually strolled up to him and then asked, "What are you doing here, Harry? No, no no, don't get up. Are you feeling alright? You look tired."

Harry nodded and then rubbed the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. It was a shame he was ruining these nice dress robes already.

"I'm fine, Professor Dumbledore," said Harry. "I just wanted to get out of the limelight for a bit."

Dumbledore seemed to nod in understanding and sat down on the floor parallel to him. "I haven't been really able to speak to you like on a comrade to comrade level in a long time. Tell me, how are you holding up, Harry?"

Harry shrugged non-chalantly and stared at his toes. "I don't really know, actually. Not much has happened. Just being fussed over by Madame Pomphrey, being given a strict dietary plan, getting potions by the dozen shoved into my bag, and then being given these robes as an anonymous gift for something. It's really, really weird. And, it's starting to scare me."

Dumbledore's look of sympathy could probably never be matched by any known man on the earth. It was so calming and comforting that Harry could've probably stayed in that position forever, however strange it may have been.

"What's scaring you more, Harry, the sudden kindness everyone's been showing you or the adventure that you lie on the edge of?"

"Both," Harry muttered, glaring at his toes. "They're both scary to me. I hate it. They never showed me any real kindness until after I defeated Voldemort. You know what happened in my 5th year. They practically all went against me. And now, on top of all this strange kindness, when they couldn't have cared less except perhaps in my 1st year, I've got another thing to take care of before I go."

He slowly, and cautiously, put his hand over his stomach where Poppy had already prodded earlier, and touched it cautiously. It was the first time he had ever even attempted touching his stomach since he first found out; the thought was just too foreign. Dumbledore's eyes were drawn to Harry's stomach with this gesture, but his eyes drifted back to Harry's face when the boy seemed uncomfortable.

"And now, I really don't know if I can handle it," Harry said, dropping his hand, and grabbing his scroll instead. "I mean, I'm going to be dead soon. Why do I even bother with finishing up the last school year? It's not going to matter in a year's time."

He drew up his knees to his chest and buried his nose between his knees. He put the scroll out in front of him.

"Harry," Dumbledore started. "It does matter. I'm going to tell you something I know I'll regret saying later, but I suppose you're old enough to know now. Harry, Malfoy's gathering followers. He's still trying to keep the dark magic alive by gathering has-been Voldemort followers, Voldemort supporters, and even old Grindlewald supporters. He wants to _kill_ you, Harry. He's trying to gather followers, so he can kill you and gain power and respect from the other Death Eaters for doing so. Lucius Malfoy has always craved power and reputation above all else. This is probably why he was chosen as a Slytherin. And he wants to attain the rank of Voldemort in matching power. And at the moment, it appears as though he will stop at nothing to do so. This is actually why I want you to finish out you're last school year; so I can keep you safe here, at Hogwarts."

"You didn't think Sirius could do a well enough job at that?" Harry asked, suddenly testy. "You didn't think he proved himself well enough at the battle in the Department of Mysteries? You think _I_ can't defend myself?"

"Harry, we have strength in numbers," replied Dumbledore. "It'd be best if we stick together for a while, at least until you have the child. I've already given Sirius a room here at Hogwarts where he can stay. Until then, please, just be content with where you are. You're with all your friends, you're not secluded at Grimmauld Place…don't you think that'd be a great place to stay for your last year here?"

Harry released the hold on his nose and then sighed. "I suppose so," he whispered. "It's just I wished I could've had a little bit more peace and quiet than this."

"Don't worry, Harry," Dumbledore chuckled, slowly cracking his knees as he readjusted himself on the floor. "It'll settle down soon. Harry?"

Harry was about to say something in return when he felt something very wet slide down from his nose and over his lips. He put his fingers up to his nose and took it away in alarm. It was wet, dark, shiny, and-

"Lumos," spoke Dumbledore quietly. He lit up his wand in the darkened hallway and held tipped Harry's head slightly upwards so he could see.

"Ah, Harry, here you are," said Dumbledore, pulling a handkerchief out of his breast pocket. "Don't worry, it's just a bloody nose. Just lean your head forward; that's it…I'll see if I can't find the Weasley twins to see if they don't have a nosebleed nougat stopper or something up their sleeve. I'll talk to Snape and see if that's okay for you. Just keep your head leaning forward, Harry. No leaning the head back; that's been an old Muggle theory for years."

Dumbledore rushed out of the hallway and back into the Great Hall where he seemed to stay at for sometime.

Harry felt a strange headrush and pulled his back up from against the wall a little bit further. He looked down and made a gasping noise as he realized what had just happened. He had so much blood on his fingers that he had gotten the scroll all stamped with blood marks.

Well, that was just great, why was it _now_ that is nose decided to start bleeding? He shook his head and suddenly realized that his nose was bleeding so badly now that blood was practically dripping from the handkerchief. Not only that, but he had practically ruined his Order of Merlin- First Class scroll. He stuffed the scroll unceremoniously into his pocket.

He started feeling a little bit lightheaded and prayed for his consciousness. He needn't have worried. Dumbledore and three tag-a-longs, Snape, Fred, and George, all rushed into the hallway.

"Good grief, Harry, your nose is running like a river," said George, or Fred. Harry could have really cared less at the moment.

"You're lucky we happen to have a Skiving Snackbox handy," said Fred. "Always ready to give out demos to potential customers."

Snape, who was standing there, almost lamely, finally said, "Figures, Potter, that the moment I'd give you a gift, you'd get your blood all over it."

"W-what gift…you mean…t-the robes?" Harry asked suddenly. He hadn't even realized he had gotten blood on them. The Weasley twins looked highly shocked at this, that Snape would even _bother_ with giving Harry a gift.

And Harry was actually surprised when he saw that Snape was also wearing new dress robes, _dress robes_, something most never even got the opportunity to see the Potions Master in. For once, he didn't look like the greasiest man on the planet. His hair actually seemed washed for once.

Snape stuffed a scroll into his pocket and then went about using a simple cleaning spell on Harry's robes.

Harry couldn't help but ask, "What award did you receive, sir?"

Snape looked up from his task and answered briskly, "Order of Merlin-First Class. Scrimgeour looked terribly pained when he said it. He must've not been very happy that I killed Nagini and saved you from _more_ harm."

Harry snorted, but only caused another small torrent of blood, and Dumbledore motioned for the Weasley twins to take out their Skiving Snackbox.

They did so, but not before Snape asked curtly, "Wait, what's in that? That stopper nougat of yours?"

Fred or George, whomever it was, went up to Snape's ear, and whispered something in it. Whenever Snape heard what the secret formula was, Snape said, "It's safe," and allowed the twins to take out a stopper nougat.

Harry popped the nougat in his mouth, and instantaneously felt the blood flow stem. He was glad; his head was actually spinning by the time he managed to get it stopped.

"I'm going to go clean myself up," Harry said, not sure what to do with the handkerchief. "I don't suppose you want this back?" Dumbledore motioned for Harry to give it to him, and the old wizard quickly set a self-cleaning charm on it. After it had been cleaned of every speck of blood, and that was rather quick, he stuck it back in his breast pocket.

Harry moved into the bathroom to wash his face, and rid himself of the smell of blood.

That took sometime. He never had liked the smell of blood, especially after the Final Battle, and hadn't liked it before. It always scared him. It reminded him of death…

After his face and nose had been scrubbed thoroughly, he started hearing a commotion outside of the bathroom. Unfortunately for him, curiosity always killed his humor. As soon as he opened the bathroom door, flashes from wizarding paparazzi cameras were flashing like lightning. Harry tried to shield himself from the flashing bulbs, and put his arms over his eyes.

It wasn't long before he felt a firm grasp on his arm, tugging him to the center of the paparazzi. Harry looked up only to find out that it was Snape, who was pulling him to the center of the paparazzi.

"Professor Snape, what are you doing?" hissed Harry.

It wasn't long before he got the idea.

"I would like to make another grand announcement!" Snape said, putting his wand to his neck. A Sonorous charm. "Not only has Harry received an award from the Minister, but he has also gained a benefactor. I, Professor Snape, have become his sponsor. I will take over his last year at Hogwarts, his studies in particular, and be providing him with necessary living. In return, Harry is giving _me _a wonderful gift. A child."

There were gasps from all around the hallway, and some reporters asked for more details, but Snape did not reply. It was so bright in the room with so many cameras flashing that Harry started seeing dozens of spots in front of his eyes.

Harry went livid. "What the bloody hell?!" hissed Harry. "Why are you-"

"By a small slip-up by Voldemort, a spell gone-wrong hit Harry, and now, thanks to me touching him after the battle, the spell allowed Harry to give me a gift that I shall never forget!"

Snape was actually smiling. Or at least attempting to smile while he said this. Was it him, or did Harry suddenly get the idea that Snape was a damn good actor?

Wonderful. That would explain all the years of unexplained torture. The man was just trying to psyche him out…with his bloody acting skills.

The effing bastard.

"So, it is with…" Snape said, his face lapsing into a completely fake smile, nearly a sneer now. "-great joy, that I announce the birth of my son or daughter in a little less than 9 months."

There was a loud applause from all the reporters and wizarding paparazzi. Harry felt Snape put his hands on his shoulders, and tried to wriggle himself out, but Snape's firm hand made him stay put. Damnit.

There were more flashing bulbs, and Harry was suddenly bombarded by questions.

"What are you going to name the little tyke? Or are you even going to name it? So you're just acting as a Surrogate father for Professor Snape, Order of Merlin-First Class?"

"Ah, I shall say that I can give no more comments in regards to my announcement. Please, move aside." And they did so, allowing Snape to push Harry forward towards the end of the hallway where they were free from the dogs of the wizarding media.

Damn it. Damn it to hell.

Harry did not like this at all. Not one bit.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **This was a ridiculously fun chapter to write. I thoroughly enjoyed the ability to write about Harry and Snape in this fashion. It made me laugh. So hard. I hope you enjoyed it too. Please review. I'm going to bed now. Night!


	8. Chapter 8

**One Year to Live **

**Author's Notes**: Wellz, I am sooo hungover from my sleeping medication. Here's to hoping that won't affect my writing abilities. Ugh. So dizzy and sleepy. Nasty feeling. Ick. Oh well. Here's to the next chapter. I'm on such a roll.

**Disclaimer: **Which is angstier: Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings…okay, Harry Potter wins. Nice, JK Rowling. Love angsty books. No, I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

Once out of sight, Harry lashed out at the man who had just called him his benefactor. "Damn you, Snape, why did you do that?!" Harry hissed violently. "You've just told everyone-"

"-what they wanted to hear," said Snape curtly. "And that's still Professor Snape to you, Mr. Potter. If I had told them the truth, the media would have a field day with it and would be haunting your footsteps for the rest of your days on this earth. And if I had not announced anything at all, then when you started showing, there would be many unpleasant inquiries about it. Maybe even some death threats."

"But why didn't you tell me you were going to tell them?" hissed Harry again, now circling Snape in a nervous fashion.

"Dumbledore asked me not to," Snape said, sighing, removing his outer cloak and then draping it across his arm. "And I believe that you owe me an apology, Potter. I've just completed a dreadful task that you _should've _completed."

Harry glared at him. "What about the whole_ touching_ thing? You know people will question that, right? You've just opened up a whole other Pandora's box!"

"If they have any brains, they'll get the idea that you're just a Surrogate for now. Think about it, Potter. You're giving me a son or a daughter. Technically, you're a Surrogate father. Making you even _more_ of a hero in everyone's eyes. I already spoke about this with Dumbledore, and you would do _well_ to be grateful that the man has enough common sense to get you out of this mess with the media. Now, if you'll excuse me, Potter, I have a few potions to brew. Don't go back into the Great Hall if you value your life."

The Potions Master stalked off in the direction of the dungeons, and Harry Potter seethed. The damn man had scared the living shit out of him and now he was expecting him to be grateful. Throwing him in front of all those cameras as if he was a piece of meat trying to bait the lions.

He growled and looked in the direction of the Great Hall. He was hungry, but getting food would have to wait. Snape was right, he had better not go out into the Great Hall if he valued his life. It looked like a madhouse in there; the reporters spreading out from one end of the Great Hall to the other, all talking with various students…probably seeing if they knew anything about his pregnancy.

And that's when it hit him.

Snape was doing that, not only for Harry's sake for the media, but for the other students sakes as well. Once the reporters got in there and began answering questions, and once word got out about his pregnancy, he really wouldn't have to explain to anyone about the situation. They would all get an idea about it, and some of them would question him, but it would be easier than trying to explain his condition to every Ron, Dick, and Harry-wanna-be out there.

It was as if a domino effect had taken over the castle. The word was going to spread faster than wildfire, and eventually the fire that was started would die out, giving Harry the peace and quiet that he needed.

He felt relieved and then made up his mind about what he was going to do next. He was going to go up to his dormitory to sleep; something he felt he needed dearly. He would put his scroll away in his trunk, and hang up his brand new dress robes.

Part of him just wanted to rip up the dress robes Snape had given him. Another part of him wanted to keep them just for safekeeping. Save them for a rainy occasion of some sorts.

The man could be just so infuriating sometimes.

He slowly trekked his way up to the Gryffindor tower, said the password, entered his dormitory, took off his dress robes and hung them up on the chair, flopped down onto the bed backwards, and fell asleep almost instantaneously.

* * *

The next morning was not exactly what Harry would call pleasant. In fact, it was anything except pleasant.

"Mate, come on, you slept in! Its September 2nd…Dumbledore combined the Celebration Feast with the first feast of the year! It's school time, mate. Come on…"

Ron shook Harry's shoulder gently, but Harry didn't want to budge. He was comfortable just as he was. He swatted Ron's hand away and mumbled, "My timetable's different."

Ron shook his shoulder again, and said, "But Harry, Madame Pomphrey and my mum said you've got to eat something for breakfast, even if you don't feel like it. That, and Hermione's been bugging me about showing her your timetable. She wants to see it."

Harry could've kicked, Ron. Throwing those blasted rules at him when he didn't want them. It was way too early.

"Harry," Ron said. "It's 7:30. I thought you'd be getting up earlier than this. Come on, you gotta get something to eat."

Harry lifted his head, fumbled for his glasses and said, "Fine. If I can make them happy, I can go back to bed."

"That's the spirit, mate," Ron said, chuckling, only to be hit by a pillow flying across the room at him. "Aw, I didn't deserve that."

Harry tried to get up, but failed miserably as the room seemed to spin unexpectedly. "Crap," Harry moaned. "Feeling like shit on the first morning of school isn't a good sign."

"Well, we all have our bad days," replied Ron simply. "I'll wait for you, if you want."

"No, it's alright, Ron. Go on ahead, I'll meet you there later."

Ron shrugged, grabbed his bag, and said, "Okay then. Suit yourself."

The flame haired boy walked out of the room and into the hallway, where he eventually met up with Hermione, and both of them walked to the Great Hall.

Harry was relieved when they left. He felt like throwing up would be the greatest favor he could grant himself at the moment. He felt clammy, shaky, and sickly, all at the same time. He wanted to go back to sleep under the covers.

"Must be the morning sickness or something," Harry muttered, and he took off his glasses. "I'm going back to bed. Don't care what Ron thinks…I'll feel better in a bit. Just let me get more sleep."

He yawned and curled back into a comfortable position. In just a few minutes time, he was once again unconscious.

* * *

Harry woke up to the sound of somebody yelling…his name. It sounded high-pitched and shrilly…and…"Hermione!"

Harry woke up abruptly, making the world spin around him again. He buried his head in the pillow only to have Hermione yank the covers up off him. "Harry! Get up!" she shouted. "Come on, you only have about 3 minutes of breakfast left. Oh good god, I can't believe Ron just left you up here! Ugh, I'll have to speak to him-"

"Shut up, Hermione," Harry mumbled into his pillow. "Yelling's just making me feel all the worse."

She stopped trying to pull the sheets off of him when he said this. "You feel ill?" she asked abruptly. "Like how?"

Harry shrugged into more of the sheets and moaned. His stomach lurched, and he felt imaginary food slide up into his esophagus.

He curled up more tightly around what was left of his covers and sheets and said after he felt a bit better, "I think it'll just pass if I sleep it off."

Hermione was livid. "Harry, this is why you _need _to _eat_! You're blood sugar's dropped because you haven't had anything to eat for at least 8 hours-"

"More like 12, Hermione. I didn't get anything to eat for dinner, last night. There were too many paparazzi for me to get to the Great Hall safely."

This, at least, was partially true. He just didn't really feel up to answering any more questions thrown out by the press.

Hermione just stood there, shaking her head at him. "You idiot, Harry," she admonished. "Where's the morning sickness potion that Professor Snape gave you?"

Harry motioned to his trunk, and she opened it and asked, "Which potion?"

"The purple one," Harry mumbled, feeling his stomach lurch dangerously again. He pursed his lips and curled his hands around his pillow. God, did he feel terrible.

Hermione nodded, and pulled it out of the bag, out of the truck. She took off the little glass from the top, pulled out the cork, and then poured him a small glass.

"Take that, and then come down to breakfast. If we're too late, I can sneak you down to the kitchens."

"Hermione," Harry said, "You don't need to do that." He took the small glass from her and she said, "Nonsense, since you obviously don't know how to take care yourself properly yet. I'll just sneak you into the kitchens, or see if a house-elf would be willing to make you something."

He took a small swill of the purple potion, but nearly choked on it. He put his hand over his mouth threw his head over the garbage can. He instantaneously spit it out, much to Hermione's irritation. She took the cup from him again, and poured more for him.

"Drink it!" she ordered.

"But Hermione," Harry moaned. "It's like drinkable sugar! It's awful and makes me feel even worse-"

"It's obviously to raise your blood sugar for a long enough period so you can actually get something to eat. If you don't eat, you're going to feel awful for the rest of the day, trust me. Eat something light, and you'll feel better. Have a piece of toast and a drink of milk. That'll raise your blood sugar and make you feel more energized! Eat before you get hungry and your blood sugar drops; that's the key."

Harry moaned again as she poured him another glass, and this time, he choked it down. "Good!" she said. "Now, come on, Harry. Get dressed and I'll meet you downstairs." She left the room hurriedly.

Harry got up from the bed and stumbled over to the closet, pulled on some of his school robes, and then met Hermione downstairs.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I know, a bit of a short chapter, but I'm at work, so you can't blame me. I had a fun time writing the medical stuff down; it was entertaining to work on. OMG, I'm supposed to get the Sims 3 the day after tomorrow! Huzzah! :D Please read and review.


	9. Chapter 9

**One Year to Live **

**Author's Notes**: It's tough to write when you're half awake. And I finally saw Twilight last night. My favorite character in that movie had to be Carlisle, hands down. I loved him. Cute, adorable, and sweet to boot. I just loved him. I tend to love doctors. And I loved Alice. So sweet. But other than the movie, I am NOT a Twilight fan. I just watched it when work got WAYYYY tooo monotonous and I needed a slight change. So I watched Twilight and I also went to see The Haunting in Connecticut. Scared the crap out of me. Especially the ectoplasms part. Anyways, now onto the next chapter. Hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I really don't own it. I just don't. I just don't own Harry Potter. *runs off and cries* *sniff*

* * *

How they managed to make it in time for the last minute of breakfast, Hermione nor Harry would ever know. Harry managed to snag some toast from the table before it all disappeared.

"Harry, you've got to start taking better care of yourself," Hermione admonished for about the umpteenth time that morning. "Have you even so much as _looked_ at those books by your bed?"

Harry frowned at her while nibbling away at his toast. "No, I haven't. But then again, with the Celebration Feast and me running in and out of various Professors classrooms to get potions and be talked to, you don't think I would have time to-"

"I don't want to hear your excuses, Harry. You have to make time for it, whether you want to or not," Hermione said, grabbing a piece of toast herself. "And-oh look, it's the Daily Prophet."

She grabbed the newspaper from off the now completely clean table, and glanced at it before saying, "You've got to be kidding me, Harry."

Harry's eyebrows twitched. "What do I have to kid you about?"

"Well, just look at this!" she said, and she shoved the newspaper into Harry's face.

Harry took the paper from Hermione, and read the front page. His head spun as he read the ridiculous heading: "Potter's Pregnancy Present: Golden Boy Gets Awarded." Beneath the heading was a moving picture of him coming out of the bathroom, and then of him and Snape together, Snape's hands on his shoulders.

"Oh fu-"

"Harry, language," warned Hermione, glaring at him. "Now, what does the article say?"

Harry finished his toast, and looked at the paragraph underneath. He read it aloud:

"Mr. Harry Potter, aged 17, was awarded the Order of Merlin-First Class last night, for his remarkable bravery and skills when defeating You-Know-Who, Voldemort. But the real surprise of the night was when Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts, who was also awarded an Order of Merlin-First Class, announced the impending arrival of his child, being carried by Harry Potter himself.

"'It was a spell gone wrong,' says Snape. 'After he defeated the Dark Lord, I touched him, and he now has agreed to be a Surrogate father for my child.' Rita Skeeter, former columnist for the Daily Prophet, suspects something amiss with this announcement. 'I believe they're hiding something,' said Skeeter. 'It just seems far too convenient for them to use the Dark Lord as an excuse for something that could've happened between them.'

"When we asked Skeeter to elaborate, she said, 'I believe they might be in romantic love affair. Two powerful wizards could easily create a child through a variety of spells and potions, something that both of them are very good at. After all, it seems much more likely than a spell gone wrong that causes pregnancy at just a simple touch.'"

Harry stopped here and looked at Hermione, who was now giggling hysterically at this accusation.

"It's not funny, Hermione!" Harry cried. "They think I could be sleeping with Professor Snape!"

Hermione, who was giggling, managed to choke out, "B-but it's just so ridiculous!"

"I know, but Hermione, it's still really embarrassing. Good grief, Hermione, shut up and stop laughing so I can read the rest of this!"

Hermione was finally able to compose herself and then said, "Okay, fine, fine, go on."

"One of our reporters was able to ask Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, for confirmation. He said, 'It's true. You heard it from Professor Snape's own mouth; my staff here at Hogwarts does not lie.' He then later said he had no comment on the situation."

"'I'll be following this very closely,' said Rita Skeeter. 'I wonder if they will ever confess their love for each other; it's just so obvious.' If Potter is really involved with Professor Snape, will there be there be legal issues? Percy Weasley, aide to the Prime Minister, is positive there would be negative effects on them both if there was to be such an affair. 'It isn't legal for a teacher and student to have encounters such as that. I don't believe that there is anything going on between Professor Snape or Harry Potter, though. I know Mr. Harry Potter; he is, according to my own mother, currently dating my youngest sibling, Ginny Weasley.'"

"When we asked for confirmation on this matter from Mrs. Molly Weasley, she said, 'It isn't possible that Harry and Snape could be in love. Mr. Potter's already in love with my Ginny, and there isn't any man who can change that.' Could there be a romantic love triangle going on? See page B4 for more."

Harry couldn't read past that. He looked at Hermione and said in a dangerously low tone, "I swear to God, Hermione, I will get Rita Skeeter for this."

Hermione smiled at him. "Well, since I know all about Rita Skeeter, and have held it over her head at times, I'll let you do that now, Harry. She's an unregistered animagus. A fly, in particular. I haven't said anything because she agreed to write that article about you, Harry. Now, I think we can use that to her advantage-"

Harry waved her off and said, "Oh don't bother, Hermione, it's too late now. If I get asked any more about it, I'll just tell them to shove off. Wait-Hermione, what's the time?"

"It's…oh good god, I'm late for History of Magic! I'll see you later, Harry! Oh, and don't you forget, read those books" she said, and she ran in the direction of the second floor.

Harry was left alone with the Daily Prophet. He absolutely _loathed _Rita Skeeter right now, and he would do anything to get back at her for her accusations. The woman was completely mental.

He would never even consider Snape as…ick, he just couldn't imagine it, ick…the thought made him want to gag. He sat down at a table and leaned his head on it. What a horrible review. What a horrible morning. It was as if last night's excursions had given him a bad hangoever.

He sighed, wondering if he should head back up to his room. He really didn't have the energy to do so, but then again, he knew he _should _go read those books that McGonagall had left on his bedstand. He sighed, mind finally resolved, went upstairs to retrieve those books and read them.

* * *

He was sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room, staring at the books in his hand. After taking his nutrient potions he had picked up the books, including the Wizarding Name book that Snape had given him, and had begun reading them on the Gryffindor Common Room couch.

And now he simply couldn't put the books down. The one book, "The Book of Magical Pregnancy, Birth, and Baby," he was reading right now. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the "birth" section of the book.

How the _HELL_ was he going to be able to…do this? I mean, honestly, was he going to have to do it as those books instructed? Potions? Cut the child out? Did they really expect him…to…well…

Harry decided to flip closer to the front of the book and stop thinking about it for now. It just seemed a little harrowing to think about _that _right now. What he saw in the front was not much better than the middle. More about morning sickness. Great.

The passage he just _happened _ to read was:

"Most morning sickness is caused by the immune system becoming defensive. It knows there's a foreign body in the system, so it attempts to purge the foreign body. Thankfully, each witch and wizard has anatomical structures that allows the child to be protected (see Figure 13). Also, when a witch or wizard has not eaten anything since the night previous, the blood sugar drops, causing nausea, dizziness, clamminess, and even vomiting. It is best to put a loaf of wheat bread by the bed or in the room so you can remind yourself to eat in the morning. Food aversions are also quite common. Try not to eat foods that are heavy or make you feel bloated after eating."

Harry knew he should've eaten this morning, and the night before. It would've made his day a little easier. He had never had those problems before, and now multiple problems with his sleeping patterns, his eating habits, even his regular habits, such as brushing his teeth, blowing his nose, had become slightly changed. He had to be ever the more careful about every aspect of his day, which was really strange to him. He had always been risk-taker, part of that Gryffindor courage, but on these days, he wish he was a coward so he wouldn't be so brash.

He flipped through more of the book and read on. It was amazing some of the things he read. He read about the heartbeat being able to be heard at around the 7th or 8th week, and then he read about the weight gain.

He cringed. Exactly how big was he going to get? He didn't like the thought at all really.

After a while, the clock chimed 12 times, and he knew that it was time for his first class with Snape.

Lovely.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Yeah, a quickie chapter, but it had to be. I'm at work, and sometimes it gets so monotonous that I just have to do something else for a while. And this was it. With my lightning fast finger-typing skills and my writing skills, I was able to complete this in under 3 hours. Huzzah! Here's your next chapter.


End file.
